Three Tales
by hadchan
Summary: Three alternative stories of what is to become of Levallan and Dorian after Corypheus is defeated.
1. Tale 1 - Chapter 1

First arch - 1

All are gathered in the great hall. All are drinking and feasting like there will be no tomorrow. The Inquisitor steps away from the crowd and just looks at the scene. The warm lighting of the candles on the golden draperies, its reflection on the bronze statues and, further away, on his silver throne. It is not over, not yet, he thinks. But for the moment, everything tastes like peace.

He is exhausted after his fight against the Elder One. He can still feel how cold the ground of the faded Conclave was under his feet while he ran after him. He can still feel the magical breathe of the archdemon against his cheeks, as he inflicted the final blow upon him. He wishes he had some energy left in him, for he deeply wants to talk to his friends. To Iron Bull, whose laughter covers all voices at the table. To Sera, already drunk, who is telling the false tale of how her arrows killed a god. To Varric, who is obviously contemplating the storyline for his next book. To Cullen, tall and strong, and yet slightly intimidated by some Orlesian nobles who will not leave him alone. He wants to stand next to Vivienne and pretend he also could understand the political meaning behind frivolous talks. He wishes he could look at Leliana in the eyes and not be frightened by her cold determination. He wishes he could tell Cole how proud he was of him becoming more human every day. He might try to hug the proud Blackwall, who has finally become the best man he could ever be. He would like to be as heroic as Cassandra, who, in his heart, will always be the better inquisitor of them both, even though she is not even the Inquisitor.

But he cannot do all of that, can he? For everything is different now. Before, they all had one goal, and they all worked together in achieving it. What will become of the Inquisition now? What will become of him? He feels he has no purpose anymore. He wishes he could talk to Solas, ask for his enlightenment, for his wisdom. Solo might have told him. "Lethallin, he would say, you can now choose who you want to be". That would have been vague enough for solace. And not precise enough for him. Shall he remain here, shall he remain Inquisitor Levallan? Should he go back to his clan, which he misses so deeply? He could have an easier life there, a life he had craved for during all those dark times.  
A warm hand on his forearm makes him jump. How had Dorian managed to cross the entire hall without him noticing him? How deeply lost in thoughts is he truly?  
"...to me, Dorian says, upset.  
\- I beg your pardon?  
\- You're not listening to me!"  
Despite his angry look, he knows Dorian is not truly annoyed. He has learned to distinguish true emotions from irony, which the Tevinter mage uses in the most inappropriate moments.

"I am sorry, I was thinking about...  
\- You are thinking about going to your quarters at once, and enjoy the deep night's sleep you deserve, Dorian explains, with fake haughty accents.  
\- I couldn't possibly, I should spend time with them.  
\- Did I make it sound like you had the option?" and, without waiting for him to react, Dorian pulls his forearm with a surprising mix of softness and determination.  
To everyone who tries to stop him – including Levallan himself – the game simply ignores as he keeps moving forward. Josephine vainly tries to address the Inquisitor, but he's taken away.

The ambassador cannot hide her laughter. She wanted to please Levallan so deeply that she did not for one second thought about how exhausted he might be. And the one to take care of him, of all people, was the one everyone described as selfish. The irony of it all!

"Alright, alright, enough with the drama already!

What drama? I am simply willing to have you for myself, Amatus.

So this was all part of your plan? I should have known better.

How silly of you yo believe I might actually care. There are so many things that cannot be done in the great hall you see.

And you could not find a better excuse to drag me here than my so-called exhaustion? You can do so much better than that, Dorian."

Dorian smiles at him, but his smile quickly fades away. He gently readjusts the Inquisitor's collar, while staring at the thin Elven neck. Is he hesitant? Levallan wonders. But what would he be hesitant about?

"I...actually wanted to talk to you in private." Dorian's eyes abondon his neck as he adds: "I know a simple talk is not something I normally crave for!

Alright Dorian, I am listening, he says, trying to calm the mage down a bit. Excitation is such a strong defense mechanism in this one!

Well, I might have taken a decision regarding this all Tevinter issue."

The Inquisitor freezes. He knew the issue would have to be addressed. He did not manage to tell Dorian not to go back to Tevinter. Deep down, he was devastated, he could not bare the thought of being left alone, not after all of this, not before sharing thousands of wonders with him, not before they both could learn more from one another. But Dorian cares for Tevinter. How selfish would it have been to ask him to stay? Espacially now, now that is was all over, he knows he has to let him go. Without letting him see how deeply he is hurt.

"I have decided to stay, Dorian says.

You know this is the best thing to do, Tevinter is your home and it needs you.

You are not listening, Amatus. Again. I said I am staying. Here. With the Inquisition.

You...what? How come?

Well, that is certainly not the reaction I expected. But since you ask, let me put it simply: there is no you in Tevinter. Is that reason enough?"

He feels so happy at this moment he tries to forget how selfish it is for him to feel that way. He is about to say the most adorable thing to Dorian, but he is stopped by a tanned finger over his lips.

"Now, now, you are about to say something syrupy, aren't you? Forgive me, but I don't believe in words, I believe in actions..."


	2. Tale 2 - Chapter 1

Second arch -

**Molioris, 6****th**

Well, I found this today while looking through your things. I did not know you kept a diary. I cannot say I really see the point, but at least what remains of the Inquisition will have some materials to share with Thedas' historians. I do not intend to read you, not yet. This is way too early, mind you. So instead, I have turned the last page and started a new one, but I do not know what to write in here. Should I tell about my day? Nothing special happened today, really. I ran into Sera, she was packing. I expected her to leave sooner, if I am honest. She does not seem to care about Leliana becoming our new Divine, but I guess she is pleased to know that elves will be welcome among the Chantrie most beloves, like any other human. I hesitated, but finally did not ask her about something to bring to your clan. I suppose Solas would have helped, but we still have no trace of him. What a pity, many of my hopes actually depend on him.

So I went to your quarters and I started digging through your things. For someone who claims he is not a materialist, may I say you do have a lot of belongings. I eventually found several objects I believe might do the job, but you know me, I am such an ignorant of elven culture I might actually insult your entire clan. Well, I am not taking any risk with the halla statue, am I? But I am anticipating, we still don't know where your clan is exactly. I expected them to manifest themselves after what happened, surely they have heard! All of Thedas is aware. The entire world knows about your fight against Corypheus!

Not that it pleases you, I know how much you hate the attention. Me? I thought it would be exhilarating to be an object of admiration and curiosity. It turns out, I tend to avoid everyone the best I can. I am not in a talkative mood. Yes, I know it is rare, but talking about it all, it...hurts.

**Molioris** , 7th

I did finish on a rather dark note yesterday, didn't I? Such a brutal interruption. I did not mean to, of course, but I was interrupted by Josephine. She said she is concerned about me! I cannot handle it anymore, all this fuss, all those people gravitating around me, willing to talk to me, like I am some sort of parrot! So I have been thinking about leaving Skyhold for a few weeks. I mean, I do not believe I will hear anything about your clan before that, anyway. So I should take some time for myself, enjoy some time by my own!

Now the question I need to answer is where shall I go? My first thought was for some deserting land. The Hissing Wastes, maybe? It is warmer there and I cannot stand the cold, the snow and this bloody wind. But then I remembered you hate the Hissing Wastes. And so do I, as a matter of fact. The place you like the most, can it be the one I should go to to find my peace? It is the Emerald Graves, isn't it? The luxuriant forest, the countless rams, the elven ruins...you do love this place, you feel at home there, and I know it. So for a while, I thought this would be the place to go to!  
It must a time of great confusion for me to actually consider going there. Me, away from all civilization for Maker knows how long? I have always hated the wild. The only thing worth rejoicing during our little trips, apart from killing random strangers of course, was the moment we reached our camp! Not that I like camping; I find this sort of accommodation terribly uncomfortable. But I liked that we could stop running and enjoy a chat. I even liked it better when I could join you under your tent.

No, loneliness is a thing, but having to hunt down my own food, another. So I have made the decision to return to Redcliffe. I won't do so out of some sort of sentimental willingness to go back to the place where we met, but because it is the only place in Ferelden where I know people who will provide me with what I need without harassing me about you. At least, this is my hope...


	3. Tale 3 - Chapter 1

Third arch -

He wakes up from a long, almost endless nightmare. For how long has he been here? He cannot recall, for he spent most of his time asleep. Only when they come to "talk" does he have to stay awake. His left hand is still painful. They broke every single one of his finger, slowly, carefully, hoping for him to say...to say what? He will not speak, because he knows nothing of crucial importance. Does that mean he will spend the rest of his days in this cell?  
"Oh, Amatus, he whispers in the dark. How much I wish I did not come back".

Nothing to do about it now, anyway. But he still feels dull for believing he could single-handily change things in the Imperium. Just by himself. What a great idea that was. Even Melithian – or Inquisitor Levallan as everyone call him – had friends to help him. He, however, is persona non grata in Tevinter, and he now knows why.

The cell door opens, and the guard grabs him abruptly.

"Careful! May I remind you that I do have a few ribs brok...ah!" The guard pulls harder, probably out of fun. For he who is not a mage, how amazing in must be to be able, even encourage, to treat a superior citizen such as Dorian in such a cruel manner. He is led without a single word to a dark and smelly room. The guards never speak to him. They probably have been ordered not to. Might they reveal something of great importance if they speak? "Ah, Dorian Pavus, even broken as you are, your brains are still as sharp as ever", he thinks. He needs to compliment himself, he needs to keep track of who he is, otherwise he might lose sense of reality altogether.

There are two chairs facing each other in the room, and the guard makes him seat on one of them, then leaves. Dorian would really enjoy setting this idiot on fire, but he is absolutely powerless. Right shoulder swollen, several ribs broken, a left hand he cannot use, and his feet are still recovering. The other day, they kicked his stomach for so long he spilled blood and could not eat for several days. How could he possibly use magic in such circumstances?

A tall, dark figure enters the room, and seats in front of him, in silence.

"I see the guards have been far from gentle with you, she finally mutters. I apologize, I will see it to an end. Just know that I do not encourage such barbaric actions of low-class citizens.

Does that mean you would feel better if a Magister tortured me instead? How reassuring!

I am glad to see you still have all your mind. It will make things easier for both of us.

Oh please, stop with your bullshit! You don't want anything from me, you are just annoyed a noble mage from house Pavus is trying to change things in the almighty Imperium!"

The woman gets up. She looks very tall, or rather, he feels so small, as tiny as Melithian himself. Yes, he feels like any of these skinny elves who look to their masters from down under. She starts to circle the room, for several minutes. Dorian can feel his eyes struggling to remain open.

"Don't sleep! she yells, and rushed to him to slap him. Don't you dare sleep! Do you think I care of whatever you tried to accomplish by coming back to Tevinter? Do you think yourself so important?

Just what I needed to wake up, thank you very much...

Stop with your sarcasms Pavus. I swear you are nothing more than an insect here! And I don't care about whatever nonsense you've been spreading around. No one does!

Then why am I here?"

Why, indeed. That made no sense. He knew his actions were of little importance. As soon as he arrived in Tevinter, he could feel it would be impossible for him to change anything. But he still tried. No Magisterwould receive him and he would not use his family name in order to get access to higher circles but he kept on trying until they caught him. Does the Inquistion know of his situation, he wonders. Does Melithian know? Maybe they all have abandon him for good. But wait...!

" Oh I get it know. This has to do with me being a former member of the Inquisition. So, who do you want to reach? The Inquisitor? Our new Divine maybe? I should tell you I have little contact with them, so I might not be as helpful as you...

Do you realize the harm Divine Victoria is about to inflict upon Tevinter?

Well, as a matter of fact, I don't. She wants more freedom for mages, she has abolished the Circles. How is that harmful for Tevinter?

Because our survival as a dominant nation depends on the supremacy of our mages and our capacity to keep our slavery system under control.

And Sister Nightingale, sorry...Divine Victoria is so accepting of all races you fear a slave rebellion?" Dorian closes his eyes. He can see the thin body, the pointy ears, the long brown hair, the immense green eyes. How much I adore you, even now...

Let it be! he finally shouts. Isn't time for Tevinter to change? Isn't it time for us to belong with the rest of Thedas?

Maybe the time for change has come. I do not know. But I am certain of one thing: change must come slowly. And it must come from the inside. Divine Victoria will not let us change by ourselves.

Nonsense! What else can she do?

She can unleash the Inquisition army against us, Pavus. As simple as that."


End file.
